Lakigr's LEAFGREEN
by redbeardreplies
Summary: Follow Lakigr on his journey through Kanto to become the Pokemon League Champion, and learn the story behind the pixels! The novelization of TFS Gaming's LeafGreen Nuzlocke playthrough. I do not own Pokemon, TFS Gaming, Nuzlocke, or any combination thereof. This is strictly a fan project and is done out of love and appreciation of the series and not to be considered canon.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE: NUZLOCKE**

The black haired youth sat on the roof of his house with the night breeze blowing over him quietly. Off in the distance he heard the distinct cry of a zubat as it swooped down and snatched up a caterpie. _Must have been newly hatched,_ he thought to himself, _otherwise there should have been sounds of a struggle. Probably didn't know how to utilize the glands in its cheeks for web production._ He smiled and looked over at his neighbor's house as he idly wondered how many caterpies it would take to string shot the entire building.

The night became quiet once again until the only noise was that of the televisions in the homes below. The ten year old boy chuckled softly as the broadcast began detailing its coverage of Lavender Town. _How appropriate,_ he thought. _A town known for its ghost pokémon while my little town seems dead. Which we might as well be if we ever go to war with Johto again._

It was because of that war, and those memories, that every television, in not only that little town but the whole Kanto region, was tuned to the same channel. Celadon Central News. There was only one program being aired tonight, and the current Pokémon League Champion Lance held the focus of Kanto as he read off the names and fates of new trainers during the Pokémon Trainer Draft Lottery.

It had been just over ten years since the war fully ended, but that did not mean they wanted to be caught without a ready supply of soldiers or weapons. They had both of those in the forms of trainers and pokémon, but the unfortunate need of the draft came in the manner that during the war poké balls became scarce. Production almost stopped completely when raw materials started becoming harder and harder to find.

To this end General Nuzlocke instituted a rationing system. Beginning trainers still abided by this rationing system which decided with what pokémon and how many poké balls they started. Due to overpopulation and migration patterns, caterpies, pidgeys, rattatas, and weedles became the most common starter pokémon given out to newest trainers. Rounding out the random choices that were given out during the Pokémon Trainer Draft Lottery were bellsprout, krabby, nidoran, oddish, paras, and spearow.

The dreaded Rationing Grade 1 gave you a pokémon and a boot out the door. This accounted for fifty percent of the trainer draft lottery. Most trainers just quit at that point and prayed war never came. They kept their pokémon as a pet since it was registered to them, and stayed in school before settling into the workforce. Very rare was the trainer who would set off to take on a gym leader with a single pokémon. They still had to attempt it though or face imprisonment. The entire purpose of the Trainer Draft Lottery was to turn every citizen into a competent soldier or have them die trying. Be that as it may, once they arrived at their first gym they typically forfeited the match.

Rationing Grade 2 at least gave you a fighting chance with a pokémon and one poké ball before sending you off into the wild. About thirty-five percent of the lottery capsules fell into this category. The coveted Rationing Grade 3 though gave you two poké balls to start with besides your pokémon, and only ten percent of trainers were lucky enough to be drafted as such. Nonetheless, additional poké balls could be requisitioned by proving your training and defeating gym leaders. One additional poké ball for every gym badge obtained. Rationing Grade 4 however was something of an experiment in progress which is why it only accounted for four percent of trainers.

Depending on how you looked at it, those lucky or unlucky enough to be drafted into Rationing Grade 4 were part of the Pokédex Program. This meant that they were given a chance at an uncommon starter pokémon, usually a bulbasaur, charmander, or squirtle, and it gave them access to job fields normally not available to others. By being part of the Pokédex program and collecting data, these trainers may one day go on to work as researchers themselves. However, they would be given only a single poké ball between destinations and none upon defeating gym leaders. Also, the trainers themselves were not in charge of the poké balls. A research assistant from a local lab or pokémon center would be along with the trainer and his or her pokédex. This was to ensure that the trainer caught a variety of pokémon to help with the research gathering. Therefore, it was up to the local assistant what was caught and not the trainer.

His black eyes twinkled in the starlight as a loud laugh echoed throughout the night. That last stipulation was in place because nobody wanted a repeat of the Second Lieutenant Joey "Ratfink" Valdemoza incident. Still, he would have loved to have seen their faces when a single lieutenant tried to justify the use of over one hundred poké balls on rattatas for " ** _PROJECT CODENAME: TOP PERCENTAGE RATTATA_** ".

He saw several curtains twitch aside as people peered out to see who was laughing in the silence. From below he heard his mother moving through the house. "Sweetie! They are about to start with Pallet Town! You need to get in here!" There really was no need since he could hear the TV just fine, but he could not outright ignore his mother. They had no other family. His father left the moment he found out she had been pregnant with him, and everyone else his mother had been related to had died in the war.

Sighing quietly as he slid through the window, the thin child made his way inside and back downstairs. It was a small, tidy, and somewhat simple home, but it was theirs. After all of her family had died, she took what little money the Kanto government had paid out as recompense and bought this place. She had set up her own housekeeping business to make ends meet and never looked back. Now his mother was twenty-six years old and chewing her nails furiously while pacing in front of the broadcast image of the Pokémon League Champion.

"And with that we come to Pallet Town."

The words seemed to echo loudly, like they were booming with the force of a thousand hyper beams. He could not be sure, but he swore it sounded as if the leader of the Elite Four's voice had taken on a cold and malicious quality. _So **this** is what it feels like when a krabby gets your heart in a vicegrip_ , he thought to himself. He looked to his mother, wanting for just a moment the smallest bit of comfort before his life was forever altered, only to find her sprawled on the floor. "MOM!" he cried out as he rushed over to check on her. "Mom are you ok?" She was sobbing silently while her son cradled his only parent.

"I would like, if I may," the Champion said with no hint, or need, of asking in his voice at all, "to do something a little different now." Lance smiled at the camera as he stepped away from the lottery rollers. He handed a nearby assistant what could only be the registration card of the wide eyed youth watching at home. "They can wait," the leader of the Elite Four muttered, "while we talk about people who actually matter." The people in the background seemed absolutely shocked and at a loss for words, this had never happened before, but nobody in their right mind was going to tell this man to stop. Sure there were governments, militaries, and even criminal organizations out there that had more temporal power than the Pokémon League, but who was going to argue with a man that carried the most powerful dragons in the region in his pockets? "Instead, I want to go out of order for a moment and welcome the newest Rationing Grade 5 Pokémon Trainer. Katama Oak."

The boy's head whipped around furiously. He figured on Katama's grandfather buying his grandson's way into Rationing Grade 5, hell that was the only way to get in, but to be brushed aside so carelessly when he himself was the only other trainer from Pallet Town this time was infuriating! This announcement could have waited sixty seconds while Lance drew out a capsule determining his rationing grade and then his pokémon, but instead his entire life had to be put on hold so somebody else could pad that arrogant little nutsack's ego!

"As we are all aware," Lance intoned, "Grade 5 is the pinnacle of the Pokédex Program. It rewards the trainer according to the amount of research they conduct, and therefore can provide them with a constant supply of poké balls as long as they remain diligent. I can think of no other trainer who is better prepared for this task than the grandson of our own marvelous Professor Oak. May he brighten our lives an-"

"Oh who gives a rattata's ass," he mumbled as he helped his mother to her feet. He refused to let his neighbor get the better of him. It just was not worth wasting the energy on him right now. They moved to the couch and sat down to continue watching the broadcast. "You shouldn't say things like that," his mother whispered halfheartedly before hugging him tightly. He made a noncommittal noise and just curled up there to wait for his fate.

It went on for about another thirty seconds of gushing before the master dragon trainer reached into a smaller lottery roller on a nearby desk meant specifically for Grades 4 and 5 and grabbed a capsule. Rationing Grade 5 was the final one percent in the equation of trainers. The ones who sat on top of the whole pyramid and hoarded everything that trickled down to the rest of society. As the capsule broke open and spilled out a small figurine, the young boy could barely restrain himself from leaping forward to get a better view as it fell to the desk. It kept falling and falling, twisting and turning in the air, finally hitting the wood and bouncing once, twice, and then a third time before rolling over a few times and finally coming to a halt with the camera zooming in on it.

A charmander.

Katama "I'm A Dirty Nutsack" Oak got a damn charmander on top of buying his way into Rationing Grade 5 and being immune to active duty if the country ever went to war! Before his jaw had finished dropping he could hear his neighbor screaming and he knew it would not be long before the gloating would start. Leave it to the spoiled little rich kid to be given the favorite pokémon of the guy he most loved to piss off.

"Congratulations, Katama," the Champion said with a chuckle. "I expect to see you on the Indigo Plateau. Now though we have one more trainer in Pallet Town to deal with." Crossing back over to the larger lottery rollers, Lance held up a registration card and squinted at the name printed on it. "Lagurki? Lackigur? La-ki-gr? Oh is that how you say it? Huh? Sounds kinda Johtonese to me," he said with a smirk on his face as he snapped open a capsule.

Lakigr felt like he had been kicked in the teeth. First he had to sit and endure the humiliation of him not mattering enough for them to stay on schedule. Then he had to sit and listen to this guy stroke Katama's ego over the airways. Now he was being so casually and callously attacked by the single most powerful trainer in front of the entire Kanto populace. For all that he tried to act tough for his mother, never in his life had he ever felt smaller and more vulnerable than that moment when she hugged him tightly. Try as he might he was still only ten years old, and the tears began pouring down his face. Before he could even open his mouth, his mother's finger pressed against his lips prevented him from speaking. "Nothing," she said quietly, "you have done nothing wrong. Some people just love inflicting misery and pain."

"Anyways," that smug tone called out breaking through his mother's soothing voice, "Lakigr Leaf Rationing Grade..." Lance needed to pause to look down at the paper in his hand, and he blinked for a moment before his face melted into a neutral mask of indifference. "4. How lucky for Pallet Town. Both of their trainers will be part of the Pokédex Program." There was an obvious tension in the master trainer's steps as he crossed back to the desk with the smaller lottery roller and reached inside. This time there was no grandstanding, no speeches, or anything else to waste time. The capsule was chosen, cracked open, and laid upon the table with a squirtle in full view of the camera.

Whatever was said next in the broadcast was lost as both mother and son leapt screaming around the room in pure joy. He did not know exactly why the Grand Champion seemed to be targeting him, but none of that mattered anymore. He was part of the Pokédex Program. He, Lakigr Leaf, would be given a poké ball at each major destination around Kanto. And above all else there was the crowning achievement of Rationing Grade 4. The possibility of being promoted into the ranks of Pokémon Researchers and being immune to the draft should war ever come. It was going to take a lot of hard work, dedication, and research with his pokémon companion to get there, but he was sure that with the squirtle by his side he would have no problems.

The young trainer stopped jumping and screaming so that he could collect his thoughts for a moment. A squirtle! Not a fast evolving bug pokémon like a caterpie or weedle, or a well-rounded pokémon like a pidgey or rattata. But a tank with a water cannon! It sure was no fire lizard, but with this sea turtle he would master the waves and drown the competition. With that thought in mind Lakigr's eyes lit up and he quickly ran to the back door. Sure enough he saw Katama being informed of the latest news by his older sister in their yard. It was only a matter of seconds before they went inside and the exterior of the neighbor's house was dark and quiet again. The Grade 4 trainer could not help but laugh at the fact that the moment a real challenge presented itself the Grade 5 trainer would not even bother trying to face it.

The lack of noise from the front of the house immediately told him that the night was officially over. "All right now," his mother said, "you're going to need lots of sleep before setting out on your own. So hop to it." She started herding him towards the stairs like a tauros in a corral with nowhere to go. He wanted to argue with her, but knew it was no use. After tomorrow there was no telling when he would next lay eyes on her. If ever. It was not entirely uncommon for trainers to die on their journeys. They stood there looking at each other for a full minute before hugging one more time.

As Lakigr turned to walk up the stairs he stopped and gripped the rail tightly. He was going to need it to help keep him from shaking. Years of fear and uncertainty coming to a head as he prepared to have the worst conversation ever with his mother. "I love you mom, but I really wish you would've told me the truth about why you had your pokémon license revoked. It sucked having to hear it first from Katama and then confirmed by the rest of the town." He did not turn his head but he heard his mother's shoes skid to a halt on the hardwood floor.

"Lakigr, I told you before I refused to fight in the war and-"

"Dad was a Johto spy you helped smuggle back across the border."

He had been told that two years ago. That was when everything had changed. Before then Katama had been his best friend, but afterwards they could not look at each other without nearly coming to blows. He had played this conversation with his mother out in his mind thousands of times. Imagining all of the different outcomes. Outrage. Sadness. Denial. Acceptance. But never did he expect her to actually wipe a few tears from her eyes while laughing!

"A spy!" she chuckled. "Oh that is precious! Sweetie as much as I loved your father he couldn't spy his way into or out of my underwear drawer, let alone anything useful like a government building or something! No," she said as she suddenly put a hand over her son's mouth and started dragging him outside, "he may have been many things but a spy he was not." As they reached the back door they stopped so that she could reach inside a cabinet and grab a small box. Opening the door with one hand she freed her son and motioned to the center of the yard with the other.

"Mom what is go-" he started before getting cut off as she shoved the worn shoe box into his hands. He looked at her confused before opening it, revealing hand-written notes, pictures, and at the bottom of the pile a long letter signed with an unfamiliar name. His eyes widened in surprise as he jerked his head up and stared gaping at his mother. "This is...this...all this time..." He was so taken aback that he could not help but trip over his own tongue like a lickitung having left a dentist's office.

"I was going to hide it in your pack and let you discover it yourself. He took an electrode to the head towards the end of the war, and was unable to talk properly afterwards so he had to write everything down." She reached into the box as a few tears fell down her cheeks and pulled out two photos. "This," she held up one, "was the man I was engaged to before he was shipped off to Johto for the war. And this," she held up the second, "was the man who came home wearing his uniform and tags six months later."

Lakigr took both pictures and studied them carefully. They said that everyone in the world had a twin and this most definitely proved it. Even knowing they were not the same person did not help when trying to find even the smallest difference between them. He put the first picture back, but held onto the second for a little bit longer. Even living somewhat close to the border people still talked about the Johtonese like they were lesser at times. And yet Lakigr's father seemed no different than anyone else who lived in Pallet Town.

"But why?" he asked her as he finally looked up. "Why did you help him when you found out? How did you find out? And why are we outside and whispering?" It was dark, secluded, and on the edge of town, but Lakigr could not shake the uneasy feeling that someone was trying to watch them.

"Most of that," his mother told him as she took the last picture from him, "can be answered by the pages in here. When you leave tomorrow I will add one final letter to clear up everything else. As for the last," she said placing the lid back on the box and tucking it back under her arm with a sigh, "our home has been under audio surveillance since my pokémon license was revoked." Putting her arm around him as his eyes widened she whispered her final warning, "Never say his name unless you want to be questioned like a P.O.W."

Walking back towards the house now she started smiling and acting more her normal self. Going through the back door into the house again she spoke normally to him as if nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary. "You can call me every time you get to a pokémon center. I know it will be rough, and you will want to come home, but I won't allow it. Not until you wipe the floor with the entire Elite Four. Because you're my son, and I know you can. Now," she said pointing up the staircase, "march on up those stairs and get some sleep! Tomorrow your life changes forever!"

Lakigr smiled weakly and gave her one last hug for the evening before finally going upstairs. He changed into his night attire and flopped down on the bed. The young trainer's mind raced furiously over the contents of the box as he stared up at the ceiling. Page after page of writings, pictures of this man and his mother where they seemed legitimately happy, and a name that could not be spoken aloud. He turned over all of this again and again in his head until sleep finally started to envelop him. His final thought before passing out was if he might ever get a chance to meet this Tantor.

 **END PROLOGUE**


	2. Book 1-Lament (The Departure)

**BOOK 1: LAMENT**

 **CHAPER 1: THE DEPARTURE**

Lakigr awoke to the usual sounds of breakfast being made downstairs. He blinked, immediately aware that something was amiss as the morning light came through the window. There was a strange shape sitting at the foot of his bed, the weight of it against his feet helping to pull him out of the haze of sleep. Forcing himself upright and fully awake, the young trainer grabbed the object and began inspecting it. The package was from the poké mart in Viridian City and it was addressed to him, care of his mother, Mehnsh Leaf. Curious as to what could possibly have been ordered for him the youth began unboxing the contents carefully.

He sat there opening the flaps almost lazily until the light reflected off the top item in the box. His eyes widened in astonishment; his jaw dropped open in amazement; and his arms fell limply to the sides of the box as it opened completely. Atop the pile of pristine goods sat a shiny _Potion_ vial. He gently lifted the veritable pokémon-center-in-a-bottle and stared at it longingly for a moment before placing it gently in the center of his bed. A brand new pop-up tent along with a personal sized set of camping gear came out next followed by a set of three books. _The Outdoor Survival Guide_. The latest topographical charts and combined road atlas of the entire Kanto region. The final, and most important, book that looked out of place in the stack was _1000 Ways To Cook A Caterpie (And Other Common Dishes)_. Setting everything down carefully on the bed the boy slid free and made his way quickly downstairs.

Lakigr turned into the kitchen to find the table already covered with the usual plates of food, but also other more curious items as well. The first thing he noticed was a brand new pair of red and black, cushioned, and officially licensed Pokéathlon running shoes! The price tags on those things were so obscene that not even Katama ran around the dirt streets of Pallet Town in his pair! Sitting behind it was an officially licensed Pokémon League jacket and hat! Both of the items were a matching red to complete the ensemble his mother had obviously spent a great deal of time, effort, and several months of pay piecing together for him. The backpack next to them was self-explanatory, but the rest of the items on the table were somewhat confusing. One looked like it might be a belt for holding poké balls but it seemed too big and thick! Then there was a weird little music box with a crank that looked like an old gramophone. There was what appeared to be an old field manual tucked under the shoe box from the night before with yet another small box sitting on top of it. Lastly, atop the pile of boxes was a new pair of black leather fingerless gloves whose sole purpose was to keep him from dropping his poké balls.

"Go ahead and eat up," his mother told him, "otherwise it'll just get cold." Her son just stood there unable to say anything for a moment as he took in everything that had happened within the last few minutes since waking. Nobody else had ever shown this kind of care, devotion, or attention to him so the only person capable of this was his mother. The amount of money spent on what was laid out upon his bed upstairs and the table before him would have taken her literal years to save up. "Oh," she continued without turning around, acting as if it was just another typical Wednesday morning, "Professor Oak wants to see you as soon as you get dressed. Apparently your and Katama's pokémon and pokédexes have already been delivered."

Lakigr continued to stand there until she finally finished cooking, and once it was safe he dove for her and wrapped his arms around his mother tightly. There were no words that could describe how much she had sacrificed for him, nor were there words for the amount of gratitude and love that he had for her. After a moment she looked at her son with a few tears of joy streaming down her face. "Regardless of what Rationing Grade you were leaving as today, I was not going to let you step out that door unprepared. When you left this town today," his mother told him, "I wanted you to leave it on your terms, and I don't want you to come back here until you are ready to do so. Don't let _**anyone**_ dictate your life for you." Her son nodded in silent understanding under his mother's tearful gaze. "Good. Now," she finished saying as she wiped away her tears, "eat so you can get cleaned up and get over to the lab! You know you don't have all day if you want to get to Viridian City before it gets too dark!"

Lakigr's mind had finally overloaded like a voltorb using self-destruct, and the end result was pretty much the same. The youth blinked a couple times with a blank expression on his face before comprehension finally began to dawn on him as to what his mother had been saying. It took a moment but once the new trainer got in motion he was faster than a quick-attacking pikachu freebasing carbos.

The first thing he did was grab his breakfast plate from the table while opening his mouth in his best golbat impression. He shoveled as much into each bite as possible until he finished in record time, and was still chewing as he dropped the plate in the sink while running towards the shower stall. By the time he hit the bathroom door he dropped a pile of clothes before hopping into the shower and cranking the water on in almost the same fluid motion. The boy's whole world almost came to a screeching halt right then and there when it started spiraling downward. Bracing himself against the wall, he looked down and started cackling like a madman. In his excitement he had forgotten to take his socks off before getting into the shower! He quickly slid out of the socks, wrung as much water out of them as he could, hung them over the shower curtain rod, and went back to getting himself cleaned.

It was not much later that he found himself standing once again in his kitchen. This time, however, he was lacing up his new shoes while his mother finished setting about organizing and packing all of his new equipment. "You go ahead to the lab," she told him while putting the books into his backpack, "and come back here when you're finished." He smiled and started to take a step towards the door before stopping and turning back. The sunlight sparkled off the _Potion_ vial in the middle of the table, almost like it was calling to him. His stomach churned as if a swarm of butterfree had been turned loose inside a crowded room of entomophobiacs. As much as he really wanted to save that for when he might really need it, something told him to take it with him just in case. Slipping the potion into his jacket pocket and holding it there tightly, the black haired boy finally left and made his way across the small town towards the famous Oak Research Labs.

Walking out the back door of the house and crossing the yard as he tugged on his new gloves, the jet black eyes of Lakigr darted to the sky as a large shape took wing not far from his destination. The rookie trainer was not entirely familiar with the pokémon flying up into the air next to the professor's laboratory, but the person riding was obviously very skilled. No verbal commands were issued at all and the only movement that could be seen was the flapping of the figure's cape in the wind as it rode off between the beating wings of the monstrous flyer. Running as fast as he could the rest of the way, he busted through the door and grabbed the nearest research assistant to frantically ask them, "What was that?!"

"That," said an infuriatingly smug voice from the other side of the main laboratory, "was the Pokémon League Champion Lance himself leaving on his aerodactyl." Katama Oak seemed to slither from the shadows of a stack of bookshelves like the writhing little ekans Lakigr sometimes imagined him to be. "A prehistoric pokémon revived thanks to the scientific breakthroughs done by the researchers on Cinnabar Island. You might've seen him, you know, if you were **worth** his time like a real trainer is."

"Keep mouthing off, Nutsack," Lakigr warned as Katama glared daggers at him for the use of the mocking moniker, "and I'll put you back down in the dirt like I did two years ago. Only this time," he continued quietly, "I'll break more than a nose." Thankfully at that point they were saved from any further hostility or awkwardness as Katama's grandfather, Professor Oak, decided to finally grace them with his presence.

"So sorry you two," the Professor said as he walked up to them smiling, "but I had to finish registering your information to your pokédexes. Now if you'll take the gloves off Lakigr," he said handing Katama his own device and a poké ball, "I need to get a bio-metric readout of your palm print to sync this up with you." The youth did as he was told without question. He had been waiting for this day for far too long, and now that it was here he was ready to get on with it. The gloves came off and he held out his hands, palms up, side by side while the elder Oak opened the pokédex and placed both edges of it into his hands to initiate the scan. It was over almost instantly and the device buzzed to life showing a picture of Lakigr, all of his pertinent information, all of the pokémon registered to him, with special notations to those on his person, and their information as well.

Lakigr blinked and stared at the small screen for a moment before turning to look at the lone poké ball left on the table and then back at the professor. "Excuse me, sir," he said somewhat warily, "but I think there may have been a mistake. According to the Draft Lottery last night I was supposed to have a squirtle, but this says I have a charmander registered." He showed the older gentleman his pokédex while he walked over to verify the serial number stamped into the poké ball, and sure enough, they matched perfectly with the listed information for the fire type presented therein.

"Well now," the older Oak intoned as he utilized the electronic device to its fullest potential, "that is very odd indeed. I definitely remember the broadcast from last night, and this charmander should have been registered to Katama's pokédex and not your own. As a matter of fact," he said as he glanced over at his own grandson, "it should have been done last night the moment your lots were drawn." The professor frowned as he watched Katama send out the squirtle from its poké ball. The orange haired youth was smiling and going through the motions of being a good trainer while bonding with his pokémon, but the smile never touched his eyes.

"Regardless," Katama said as he smirked while patting the squirtle's head, "what's done is done and I think I like it this way. Me and this little guy are just gonna mow down the competition like a tank in Poké-ananmen Square. I mean-"

" _ **KATAMA**_!" The sudden roaring outburst from the normally docile professor silenced the lab so quickly that Lakigr would have believed he had gone deaf if not for the beeping of electronic equipment in the background. "You are my grandson, and I love you, but if you **ever** say that again…" The white haired scientist took a moment to regain his composure before continuing. "I don't care what you say; there is no excuse for your complete lack of couth and disregard for human life! Need I remind you that I was **there** when those **children** were flattened by the Kanto military? There was a reason I was part of the committee leading the peace talks to end that horrible war, and that reason was to make sure days like Poké-ananmen Square never happened again!"

Drawing further in upon themselves with each new sentence, Katama and his pokémon both seemed to wither under the tirade while Lakigr turned back to the table. His former friend, while uncouth in the extreme, was right about one thing. Whatever had been done was already done and there was no use in trying to change it. Besides, he could not help but feel much more excited about running back into his mother's house with a charmander in tow! His black eyes sparkled as he picked up the poké ball and began turning it over in his hand. He was smiling from ear to ear and he knew he looked about as goofy as a snorlax was fat and did not care one bit as he finally let the pokémon out of the poké ball.

There was flash of light and suddenly they were facing each other, the ten year old trainer and his charmander. It was a tiny thing standing only two feet tall, flame burning brightly at the tip of its tail, body a luxurious autumnal ochre, and arms spread open as if to either hug or strike at a moment's notice. He could feel himself moving before he even realized he was thinking it and the next thing he knew the charmander was in his hands and held aloft as he was laughing. Most pokémon were broken and taught not to attack trainers once caught, but there had been cases in the past of pokémon being put down because of incidents where the trainers got too excited too quickly. Luckily for Lakigr though, this particular charmander seemed to already adore him as well judging by the smile on his face as he was twirled around.

"You're gonna need a name," he said as he put the little fire lizard down, "if we're going to stay together. How about…Stuart? Does that work for you?" The charmander just looked up at him for a moment and blinked. "Yeah you're right," he mumbled, "doesn't really say much about you. No no no...instead how about…Striker?" He looked down again and this time he saw a wide toothy grin and a flailing tail that could only mean approval. "Striker it is then!" he said as he knelt down and shook hands with Striker. "You and me, Striker," he said smiling. "You and me all the way!"

"Well if you two are done playing patty cake now," the professor said with a chuckle, "maybe I can show you how to properly use your pokédex for research purposes." Even with nothing but the best of intentions and good will in his voice, Lakigr still blushed and apologized for wasting the man's precious time. "Now I may have invented the idea of the pokédex," the elder Oak said, "but it has certainly been improved on since the original schematic was given military funding. Now when you want to…"

Lakigr and Katama both listened as they were being lectured about the importance of what was being presented to them. They both practiced capturing data with the device, submitting field data via voice submission and text documents, as well as being made aware of the typical colorations of all known pokémon. While the odds of encountering these almost mythical _shiny_ pokémon were nearly one in every ten thousand, if they **were** encountered then they needed to be captured and studied at all costs, even postmortem if necessary, as decreed by the Kanto military science division.

"Now, besides the usual tracking of migration patterns, checking population levels, keeping those populations free of diseases, and making sure the natural predator and prey levels don't get too far out of balance, you **both** ," Professor Oak said with an obvious snarl of distaste placed on that word, "have one final duty. And that is to battle your way across Kanto."

"Wait a minute," Lakigr said flabbergasted. "What do you mean **both**? I thought you bought Katama's freedom from the draft so he didn't have to do this!"

"So did I," muttered the professor, "but apparently the League Champion-"

"The League Champion Lance recognized true potential when he saw it," Katama said with another one of his trademark smug smiles. "As such he wasn't going to let it go to waste in a sterile lab. So he made an exception. I am still exempt from the draft, but am allowed to battle across the Kanto gyms like any other trainer so long as I don't completely neglect my research in the Pokédex Program."

A smile started creeping across Lakigr's face at the thought of his rival trying to hike along the paths between towns with only a pack and his pokémon. This kid had not been able to hack it a single night in the back yard on a clear night in spring. Oh this was going to be- "Except that I may travel however befits my station as a Grade 5 Research Scientist."

… _well tauros shit! Just take all the fun out of life why don't you!_ Lakigr thought to himself. "Fine then," he said as he looked down to Striker for a much needed boost to his spirits. "So which gym has been assigned as my first training mission? One of the many hidden bug gyms throughout Kanto? The grass gym in Celadon City? The normal gym out on the plains?"

"Check your pokédex," the professor said. "It should be in a message from the Pokémon League addressed to you."

He opened the device once again and was about to start going through the menus when something about Katama caught his eye. Looking up he saw him doing his best to hide a very cruel smile and laugh. The last time he saw that smile was when a cluster of angry weedle nearly toppled onto him, which meant he had done something to either inflict pain or set it up to have pain inflicted. His mind started racing. First their starters were swapped, then he was allowed to participate in military missions on a special provisional basis, and now something was going on with the first gym that he was being assigned to…

"Oh no. You didn't." He quickly flipped through the menus and found the appropriate message labeled from the Pokémon League. He skipped the pleasantries and formalities of the standard form letter by immediately scrolling to the bottom and his heart plummeted into the depths of his feet as he saw three things in particular.

Timeline: One Week  
Destination: Pewter City Gym (Type: Rock – Leader: Brock)

Sincerely,  
Pokémon League Champion Lance  
P.S. Best of luck, half-breed. You'll need it.

He could feel his free hand balling up into a tight fist of rage for a short moment before a sudden shift of weight landed on his leg. Looking down into the eyes of Striker he could not help but feel the anger leave him. "It's ok, Striker," Lakigr said finally as he leaned down and patted his head. "No matter what they throw at us they'll never win." Standing up and waving to the professor with a smile, he finally turned towards the door. "Thanks a lot, but I think I need to get going since I've only got a week to get to Pewter City instead of the standard month."

"What?!" The professor cried out in surprise. "This is outrageous! Such obvious sabotage, tampering with the Draft Lottery process, not to mention with government property, illegally distributing pokémon, bribery, and falsifying documentation...I'm going to-"

"Do absolutely nothing, Professor Oak," Lakigr's mother said as she walked into the lab followed by a pair of worried research assistants. "You have two grandchildren to keep safe and over half of Pallet Town to employ. If you piss off the Pokémon League Champion you might as well wipe this town off the map." Mehnsh turned to look at both of the younger boys as she held up a hand to silence the protesting scientist. "You two need to leave. **Right now!** "

There were few times in his life when Lakigr would admit to feeling fear, but whenever his mother used _that_ tone of voice he had no problems figuratively tucking his tail between his legs and running for the hills. He did not even bother putting Striker back in his poké ball; instead he just picked him up and ran for the door. Once outside he set him down gently so he could catch his breath and point back inside. "That woman…back there…? That's my mom. If anything…ever happens to me…you come back here and protect her. You understand me, Striker?" The little charmander looked at him, looked back at the laboratory, looked back at him again, and then finally nodded. Striker obviously seemed confused though as to who needed protection from whom in this situation. "Good then. I'm glad we got that-"

"Go, Tank!" Katama cried out suddenly behind him as he came crashing out through the door. There was a flash of light and the squirtle that had been meant for the Leaf household was standing before Striker seemingly ready for battle. "Alright let's show them that Lance was right to trust us! Go all out now!"

"Don't worry, Striker! You've got this!" Lakigr cried out. Just in case though he slipped his hand into his jacket and grabbed hold of the vial of Potion while still directing the charmander in battle.

The two pokémon circled each other for a moment before Striker let loose with a ferocious growl that put Katama's squirtle off its balance. Unfortunately it recovered quickly and used that momentum to come back around and slap the fire type in the face with a tail. The charmander took a step back and shook its head before lunging back into the fray and getting a nice quick swipe across the chest in on his foe, but left himself wide open for a retaliatory slam to his own midsection.

"Come on, Striker! Back up and go in at a different angle!" The-little-lizard-that-could dropped suddenly and turned, swiping his claws across the face of Tank who howled in rage before turning with the momentum once again and bringing his tail back down again right into Striker's eyes.

"Yeah! That's it, Tank!" Katama screamed out. "Blind him and then beat him down till he can't move!" Hissing loudly and shaking his head furiously, Striker and Tank started trading a furious set of blows back and forth, each more frenzied than the last. At last, Striker saw an opening and managed to land an extra hard stab with his claws at the base of the squirtle's neck. Tank just crumbled to the ground, fainting completely as both trainers ran forward.

Lakigr hooted and hollered and jumped for joy as he picked up Striker and celebrated their first victory together. "Alright Striker, I think you've earned your rest for now." Holding up the poké ball and waving him towards it, Striker toddled forward and popped his nose against the button to let himself in with a flash of light. "Guess that's all I need," he said to Katama as he turned to leave. "I'm off to get ready for Pewter City."

Katama grabbed his squirtle and poké ball out of the dirt while still trying to look down his nose at his rival. "Whatever. Smell you later, Lakigr," he said as he turned and walked away in a huff back towards the laboratory door.

"Take it easy, Nutsack!" he shouted back at him as he started running to his own house. While it felt like the battle had taken forever he knew it had only been mere moments. Still, he needed to make sure everything was done before his mother got home from Oak Labs. He needed to leave as soon as possible if he wanted to get to Pewter City and challenge the gym leader within a single week. Bursting through the back door he immediately ran to the table and started going through everything.

It looked as if she had finished packing everything while he had been out. The backpack had two extra outfits in it that he could wash at the pokémon centers laundry facilities, a towel, toiletries, a few other shower items, the three books, the camping gear that included a set of campfire utensils, flint and steel, fishing line and hooks, a very small collapsible grill, the pop-up tent meant for two adults, the weird music box with crank and speaker, and finally the shoe box with the old field manual and promised letter from mom attached to it. The only things that were missing was the large belt for pokémon balls and another box that had been sitting on the kitchen counter earlier this morning. Looking around he found them on the other side of the room sitting next to the refrigerator. Walking over to it, he knew something was wrong the moment he picked it up. The young Leaf turned it over a few times before noticing a flap pocket on the underside. Opening it up and reaching inside the boy pulled out a very well made, hefty, and keen combat knife that had been well hidden in the shoulder sling.

"Do you like it?" his mother asked as she came back into the house. "It's a lot like the one your father used in the war if I remember correctly." Lakigr spun around quickly and put the knife back down on the table, automatically assuming that he was in trouble for having touched it. "Oh no, it is yours and you better get used to having it," she said as she peeled the field manual off the shoe box. "And this," she said opening it up, "is going to show you the finer points of how to use that. You are going to need to know how to defend yourself out there from humans just as much from pokémon, and trainers never expect to be attacked by another trainer in the middle of a battle. Remember to use that to your advantage if need be."

"I will, mom," he said. "I know I have to go soon, and I know you can't answer everything, but you have to tell me…what the hell is this thing?" Lakigr asked as he held up the gramophone looking contraption.

Mehnsh laughed for a second before taking it from him and walking towards a nearby window. "If you ever find yourself in trouble, or lost in a cave, or just surrounded by a wave of violent pokémon you will want to have this in hand. Just make sure," she warned sternly, "to have **your** pokémon safely put away in their poké balls. Because when you start turning this crank," she explained to him, "every pokémon within a good quarter mile radius is going to start acting like this." She pointed to a flock of pidgey flying by as she started cranking the contraption. The moment she did though the normally docile flock of pidgey immediately started ramming into each other at top speed or flopping around in mid-air like they were having some kind of epileptic fit.

"Sweet merciful meowths, Mother! What the hell just happened there?!"

"I just took the sound of about one hundred zubats at a pitch that we can't hear and used it as an advantage. That," she said in all seriousness, "is something you are going to have to learn to deal with. The world is no longer clean cut into black and white anymore, Lakigr. From now on you will have to make some morally gray choices. Just make sure you don't make some truly bad ones as well. Now," she said as she wiped away a tear, "let me meet this little Striker I've already heard so much about, and how about we have one more quick sit down meal as a family while he rests a little before you guys leave. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, mom," her son said with a sad smile, "that sounds like a great plan." He sat down and released Striker from his poké ball so that he could eat, rest, and meet his trainer's mother properly this time. They sat around for just over an hour before finally deciding that if he indeed wanted to get into the Viridian City limits by nightfall then he needed to leave as soon as possible. She helped him adjust the bandoleer and stowed the knife away inside it again once it was belted into place underneath the backpack. There were no longer any words to say at this point that would make this any easier so Lakigr did the only thing he could think of doing. He put Striker back into his poké ball, and he started north on Route 1 towards Viridian City.


	3. Book 1-Lament (The Route First Taken)

**BOOK 1: LAMENT**

 **CHAPTER 2: THE ROUTE FIRST TAKEN**

The sun was shining down brightly upon Lakigr as he ran along the path out of Pallet Town towards Viridian City to the north. His pack swayed slightly with every step he took, and his single poké ball wedged into the bandoleer across his chest felt odd yet comforting at the same time. Part of him wanted to let Striker wander free with him, there was no law stating that pokémon **had** to remain in their poké balls, but the young trainer needed to travel as quickly as possible right now. His jet black eyes kept scanning the road ahead to make sure nothing was going to interfere with him, and he had almost made it to the town line before a voice began calling after him.

"Wait! Hold on!" the voice demanded. "Stop, Lakigr!"

The Pallet Town native turned and was surprised to see Ezekiel, one of Professor Oak's research assistants, running full speed to catch up to him. "What's going on?" he asked as soon as the other man reached him and started catching his breath. His question was immediately answered with a raised hand holding a poké ball.

"The Professor's grandson was careless and left one behind," the aide told him as the catching device was passed between them. "His loss is your gain. I already checked and it isn't registered to a trainer yet. So I figured," he continued as he shrugged, "save you from having to deal with someone you weren't familiar with, and it would give you more time with whatever pokémon you catch."

"Wow, thanks a lot Zeke," he said with genuine surprise. "That's the nicest thing anybody has done for me in a really long time." Lakigr took out his pokédex and scanned the serial number on the ball before slipping it into the bandoleer across his chest. "I don't really know what else to say."

"You don't have to say anything," the older man told him with a somewhat unsure smile as he looked past the youth and towards the village. The black haired trainer turned to follow the researcher's gaze and saw his mother standing at the edge of town. Now he understood a bit more of what was going on. He was young but he wasn't oblivious to the pulls of nature, and with him no longer in the house his mother would finally be able to date again.

"Since I need to have someone present," he said as he grabbed Ezekiel's wrist in one hand and Strikers poké ball in the other, "when I catch a pokémon, let's make this quick." He started running down the path again, this time pulling the other gentleman along with him, keeping his eyes peeled for the first pokémon they came across. It only took them as far as rounding the first bend in the road before they came face to face with a pidgey snacking upon a caterpie. Setting Striker loose as he let go of Zeke's hand, Lakigr rushed forward with his charmander to help circle around and confuse the small bird and cut off its escapes route from underneath the tree.

Striker stormed forward, scratching the avian adversary along the chest as it reared back, beating its wings ferociously. The wind it raised made tiny cuts and marks along the diminutive salamander's face while it hissed in rage and shielded its tail from the assault. Curling and crouching down upon itself, Striker continued to wait as the pidgey kept beating its wings until it was directly above him. That was when the fire-type leapt up with all the force it could muster, knocking the bird out cold with a solid blow to the head.

Screaming with joy as he took out the poké ball and threw it at the pidgey, Lakigr laughed as he walked over to pick up Striker and celebrate another well-earned victory. He felt the smile begin to creep across his face as he expected to hear the beginning of the click that meant a successful capture. Instead he heard an electrical buzzing and an acrid stench began to permeate the air as a flash of heat popped up behind him. Spinning around his joy turned to horror as he saw flames and electricity arcing and spewing forth from the poké ball he had thrown seconds earlier.

Ezekiel was the first to truly react as he dropped down and started digging up dirt with his hands to throw onto the poké ball before the fire could spread. It was put out within seconds and the charred bits of metal and plastic were a grim reminder of the fate of the pidgey that had been stuck inside of it at the time. "Hey," the researcher said as he tried to rub the smell of charred pidgey, metal, and plastic out of his nostrils, "maybe we can go back to the lab and request a new poké ball to be waiting for you in Viridian City for this path? Not your fault there was a technical malfunction."

No, it was not his, nor even Ezekiel's, fault that the poké ball malfunctioned, but that did not matter. He was Rationing Grade 4. He was given a single poké ball between destinations, and once the serial number was scanned into his pokédex that was all there was to it. The fact that Katama did not immediately register it to his pokédex to deter other trainers from stealing it…

The child trainer's black eyes widened before shutting tight in anger as he grabbed the still warm mass of trash and screamed as he slammed it into the ground again and again and again until it finally shattered. In a last feeble discharge of electricity, a pile of mangled organs and feathers spewed forth from the remains of the ball onto the ground in front of what should have been its trainer. Lakigr suddenly found himself being lifted up and pulled back as Ezekiel hauled him away from where he had been kneeling. "Sweet merciful mew, kid! Calm down! It was just one poké ball! We can requisition another-"

"No!" Lakigr shouted as he twisted and fought in the older man's clutches. "You don't get it! Katama used and tricked us both! The only reason," he said as he continued struggling, "he wouldn't immediately register a poké ball to his pokédex is because he knew it was sabotaged!" The struggling ceased at that point when the research scientist let go of the young trainer. Whether it was because of what had been said or because of Striker standing to the side of them ready to set Ezekiel on fire if his trainer had not been released they may have never known for sure. Still, the hissing and growling coming from the fire lizard had been very convincing.

Stepping away from the other human and patting the charmander on the head absently, the black haired youth muttered, "He did all this because I beat him back at the lab. Well, no matter. I'll get even with that dirty little nutsack one way or another." He may have lost one of his very limited supply of poké balls, but even with that setback he was determined to persevere. "Go back to Pallet Town, Zeke," he told the man as he put Striker back into his own poké ball, "and don't tell anyone what happened here. Just say the ball shorted out."

There was noise coming from behind him, but Lakigr could no longer make it out as he started running down the route towards Viridian City. He stuffed Striker's poké ball securely into its accustomed place across his chest and then immediately slid his hand behind the cloth and leather to check for the knife. It was still fastened tightly where it should have been which left the pre-teen feeling comfortable. He kept running for several minutes as he measured each breath evenly so as to not tire out too quickly. Once Lakigr had gotten a couple miles outside of town he started slowing down to a reasonable jogging speed and starting taking in the scenery.

He had never actually left Pallet Town before, the Leaf family had never had the money for such luxuries as vacations or private schooling, so all of this was very new to him. His schooling had been like all the other children too poor to be sent to a _"real"_ school. The government required all households with children to have a television with a special timer installed set up so that each day it would turn on to mandated programming. They were also required in all orphanages, shelters of all kinds, and pokémon centers, and there was no way to get anything but a brand new one straight from a government supplier. Of course they were not in the habit of giving them away, so the citizens had to pay for them, and they had better take care of them too since nobody was allowed to try and repair them lest they try and reverse engineer the timing mechanism.

Thinking back on everything that he had learned during those years, Lakigr shifted his pack as he began to let his mind wander and his feet continue to guide him. If the TV wasn't locked onto the Education Network then it was usually on Celadon Central News for whatever other broadcasts the government could shove down their gullets. CCN was the other mandated channel you could listen to constantly if you were lucky and rich enough to be able to afford two television sets. On the extremely rare occasion when neither of those channels were locked into place then anyone could have turned to the last of the three channels available to anyone in the Kanto region. The Pokémon League Channel. _"All Pokémon. All The Time."_ You could watch high profile trainer battles, Elite Four training tips, Gym Battles, and of course if someone managed to make it through Victory Road itself all programming stopped to give a live feed of that fight.

There were other channels of course. Channels dedicated to shows with human casts and others with pokémon casts as well as a mixture of the two. Some were part of premium cable packages while others were exclusive channels unto themselves. One such channel was the extremely controversial Poké-Love subscription based service. While some people loved their pokémon, other people **really** loved their pokémon, and a lot of people were getting up in arms about it. Then before anyone knew it, an entire organization known as KaHPLA, the Kanto Human Pokémon Love Association, popped up overnight demanding equal treatment and representation for their preferences in the highest courts and…

Lakigr was jarred back to the present as he slammed into someone in the middle of the road suddenly and tumbled into the dirt. Time had obviously gotten away from him as he noticed the sun almost setting now that he was aware of his surroundings again. His hat came off, and he scrambled for it as he rolled around in the road apologizing furiously for not watching where he had been going. The other man was doing the same until their eyes met and then recognition flashed across the stranger's face. "You!" he said as he pointed at the youth from Pallet Town. "You're that kid from the flyer that's been getting passed around!"

Striker's poké ball was out of the loop and into Lakigr's hand almost instantaneously as he scrambled to his feet. His mind was racing like a dodrio across the plains as to why there was a flyer of him being passed around and as to whether or not he should set his charmander loose on this guy or not. "I haven't done anything wrong, and I don't know about a flyer," he told the other guy, "but I would really like to know what is going here!"

"Hey, it's ok, kid!" the guy said as he took a slow step back. He appeared to be in his early forties, and he walked with an obvious limp. He wore a standard poké mart uniform and everything from his haircut to his posture and rumpled jacket and jeans spoke volumes about his past. This guy was one of the first waves of soldiers to have been sent off to Johto oh so many years ago. "I don't give a damn if you are half Johtonese like they say you are. When I was over there, I saw just as many monsters in Kanto uniforms as I did elsewhere. Here," he said as he slowly reached into a coat pocket, "take this Potion I swiped from my dick boss. He won't miss it, and something tells me you're going to need it."

Lakigr eyed the other man for a moment before cautiously reaching out and taking the Potion. It was obviously still sealed, and the design kept it from being tampered with after contamination concerns during the war, so it was safe to use on Striker. But why was this stranger being so nice to him? "Wait, what do you mean I'm 'going to need it'?"

The poké mart employee started walking away as he pointed over the hill to the glow of Viridian City which was only a scant mile or two away. "When you get into town, head west down the first street you come to. You'll come to a bus stop, and right there you'll see the flyer on the booth to keep you out of the rain." The employee seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before turning back to look at Lakigr one final time. "Get that charmander out, Mr. Leaf, and never sleep in the same place two nights in a row. Catch another pokémon, **any** pokémon, as soon as possible."

There was a light behind the man's eyes, a slight shift in his tone of voice, and Lakigr could swear he was standing taller now. "Always have at least one of them on guard when you sleep, and the moment you catch a third start them on a rotating shift to keep them refreshed. Do you know how to cook?" he asked as he took a step closer. The boy nodded, and the older man simply tapped at Striker's poké ball in response. "That's great, but why haven't you gotten him out yet? He's your best weapon and defense, and you're not utilizing him at all. His senses are sharpened so far beyond yours that you might as well be stuffed inside a tangela and smothered in ditto jelly."

The man was not berating him, but if Lakigr had not been sure before he most certainly was convinced by the poké mart employee's behavior now that the man had served time in the military as an officer responsible for the lives of other soldiers. The trainer pushed the button and let Striker out of his confined space as he said, "Sir, thank you, Sir." He stowed the ball away in his bandoleer with a small sense of satisfaction as the other man smiled at him.

"Never," the man continued, "let them, or you for that matter, eat something that they don't kill or that you don't prepare yourself. And finally, never let anyone other than a Nurse Joy technician at a pokémon center even touch their poké balls," he said with an approving appraisal glance of Striker. "You can invoke Trainer Code Subsection C Paragraph 8 Line 3 which specifically states that 'If at any time a trainer feels that the lives of his pokémon are in danger he may accompany them to assure their safety and assume command of the Nurse Joy unit in question in regards to civilian matters until such time as the pokémon are brought back to a sustainable condition'. Now go. Get into the city, get what you need, and then find someplace quiet to hole up for the night. I suggest out west off of Route 22. Usually quiet on that end of town."

Lakigr nodded before standing straight up at attention and then giving the man the full-fledged salute he had been use to so many years ago before turning away and heading towards Viridian City. He was not entirely sure what he was going to find when he got to the city, but something told him this was probably going to be the last time he dealt with somebody this nice and caring for a good long while.

Striker followed next to him, confused and curious at first, but after a while the little lizard began to enjoy moving with him down the road and even managed to kill a couple of other pokémon along the way. Remembering what the other man had said, young Leaf snatched up the corpses. He knew he was definitely a sight when he strolled into Viridian City about ten minutes later. A black haired ten year old covered in dust and dirt from the road, charmander by his side, with two dead pidgey and three rattata hanging from his pack. Pokémon hunting was not unheard of, but someone his age would almost never be doing it on their own without **very** interesting circumstances.

He passed a group of people on his way to the first street, and they immediately gave him a wide berth. A few looked back at him again, and one even looked like he might turn and follow, but one of his friends grabbed him by the wrist to stop him. Lakigr took a left as he reached the first street heading west, and he immediately saw the bus stop about ten yards from the corner. He kept walking like he had a purpose because his mother always told him that confidence will always get you where nothing else can. As he neared the booth he saw the flyer in question on the side pane of glass. With every step closer he felt his heart drop down further and further until finally it was as if his very soul had sunk into the depths of hell while he was nose to nose with a photograph of himself surrounded by text.

OFFICIAL RECOGNITION BY THE POKÉMON LEAGUE AND KANTO MILITARY

UPON DEFEAT OF LAKIGR LEAF AND TERMINATION* OF ALL TRAINER'S POKÉMON

PARTY (IES) RESPONSIBLE WILL BE IMMEDIATELY AWARDED WITH ELEVATION TO

RATIONING GRADE 5 (FULL DRAFT IMMUNITY)

CRIMES COMMITTED: NONE

SPECIAL INVOCATION OF TRAINER CODE SUBSECTION H PARAGRAPH 2 LINE 6

TRAINER STATUS CLASSIFICATION: WHIPPING BOY

*evidence needed (i.e. destroyed poké balls, pokémon corpses, trainer's pokédex, etc.)

Lakigr could not believe it as he stood there staring at the flyer. A decree usually reserved for criminals that the law either could not or would not deal with had been laid upon him the day he became a trainer. And for what? For being born? He understood now exactly what the man on the road had been talking about, and that thought prompted him to reach back into his pack and dig out a pen. He tore down the flyer, and before he could forget, he scrawled through the trainer code babble and replaced it with Trainer Code Subsection C Paragraph 8 Line 3. "C'mon, Striker," he said as he rolled it up and turned to walk back up the street, "let's get you healed up at the pokémon center and then leave town."

They got more looks as they walked through town together, and even a few people acted like they might try to fight them. None of them were prepared though. By the time they reached for their poké balls Striker was already poised and waiting to spew fire at the first thing that moved. When they finally got to the pokémon center without incident, Lakigr picked up the amazing little charmander and made a beedrill line for the nearest Nurse Joy unit.

The moment the war with Johto began all that time ago it became clear that the casualties were going to be high. In order to combat their losses the top minds in all the scientific fields came together, and they birthed their greatest creations: Jenny and Joy. No one outside of the original program actually knew whether they were fully sentient androids that could be mass produced for next to nothing, successfully cloned humans using ditto DNA, humans reprogrammed with the thoughts of a digital pokémon that was created by a civilian scientist, or some amalgamation thereof.

Regardless, they were each created for a single purpose: Joy to serve as a medic on the battlefield to the troops and pokémon, and Jenny to serve as an unwavering military police force that could not be bribed or infiltrated. Once the war was over though it only took a small amount of redirection to transition them to civilian life and make society run even smoother. Most people did not even think twice about the Joys or Jennies these days.

Popping Striker into his poké ball with the quick flash of light and handing it over to the Nurse Joy at the counter, Lakigr immediately unfurled the flyer and intoned, "I am invoking Trainer Code Subsection C Paragraph 8 Line 3, whereas I will be accompanying you to ensure the safety of my pokémon." He felt like an utter fool saying all that out loud, but then he saw Joy's eyes glass over for a moment before she simply nodded and lifted up part of the counter to allow him access. Following her to the back the youth could have sworn a pin missile could have been heard dropping in the front of the center at that point.

 _Oh sweet merciful…that guy wasn't kidding. This is_ _ **actually**_ _happening now!_ Lakigr thought to himself. It was only a few moments before the nurse handed Striker back to him, but the moment she did he turned and ran as fast as he could out of there. He hit the doors so hard he was surprised they did not shatter, and he was hoping that the only thing people saw was a blur to the west. He hoped they were not seeing the tears streaming down his face or the sheer terror in his eyes at being the first Whipping Boy Kanto had seen in five years.


	4. Book 1-Lament (3 Friends 2 Foes 1 Death)

**BOOK 1: LAMENT**

 **CHAPTER 3: THREE FRIENDS, TWO FOES, ONE DEATH**

There was no sleep to be had that first night under the stars. Prey often found it hard to sleep while being stalked by hunters at every turn. Such had been the case for Lakigr and Striker throughout the entire evening as they nervously waited inside the rattata den. Upon leaving the pokémon center in Viridian City it had been one close call after another with parties of trainers roaming together coming after him. He could not blame them because if their positions had been reversed, he knew he would be doing his best to hunt down a Whipping Boy for a chance at Draft Immunity as well.

The young trainer's black hair shook as he shivered with that thought. People had been having trouble adjusting to life after the war and needed something to take their minds off of the horrible transition back to normalcy. So, in order to give society a way to vent its anger and frustrations, a new set of laws and type of citizenship was created: the Whipping Boy status. A literal second class citizen that was restricted by all normal laws, but could be hunted like an animal and in some cases executed by the citizenry. It was initially populated by anyone that had previously been incarcerated or faced with incarceration. With the exception of a few people like his mother, the entire region poured out in force with their pokémon to purge Kanto of this criminal element.

And it worked. The people of Kanto reveled in their newfound freedom.

Every so often another group of Johto spies, sympathizers, or criminals were dropped at random locations with only the clothes on their backs and whatever pokémon they had been caught with. If they could make it to the Indigo Plateau then they could challenge the Elite Four for their freedom. Granted, in order to bypass the gates to go through the mountains a trainer needed at least eight badges from the many gyms throughout the Kanto region. Some took their chances with the mountain itself, and to date nobody had been known to survive the attempt. Others tried crossing the heavily patrolled Kanto-Johto border on foot and were shot before they got within a half mile of the electrified razor wire. Most let themselves be taken down so that someone could claim the prize, and plenty of people were more than happy to oblige.

 _He remembered vividly when the television switched suddenly from the Pokémon League Channel to the Celadon Central News station five years ago and Agatha of the Elite Four began addressing the entire region. Even at that young age he knew something important had been about to happen. He recalled screaming at his mother that the television had changed from PLC to CCN and that some scary old lady was talking. Miss Leaf had come running into the room just in time to hear Agatha say, "Our third and final Whipping Boy on the list resides in Pallet Town."_

 _Lakigr distinctly remembered the whole world spinning and shattering as his mother grabbed him, wrapped him in a bit of laundry lying on the sofa, and then leapt through the living room window out onto the grass outside. Before he could even cry out in surprise they were off like a pidgeot towards the Oak house. The door was opening and the professor was stepping out as they crossed the yard, surprise clearly written all over his face at seeing them. "They didn't name you!" the older man said as he put a hand on her shoulder. Confusion replaced fear on the young mother's face as she tried to understand what was going on, but then it became glaringly apparent._

 _Nothing needed to be explained as the other townspeople poured into the streets and started converging on a small house next to the laboratory. The professor shoved them inside the house before slamming the door shut and a quick flash of light from outside said he had released one of his own pokémon. A moment later the thunderous hooves of a tauros went pounding past the window that Daisy was ripping Katama away from. As Lakigr's mother moved to help shield the Oak children from the chaotic scene outside time seemed to crawl to a slowpoke's pace._

 _As Lakigr's black eyes peered over his mother's shoulder and through the window towards the lab, the small house of research assistant Richard Rosewood had already been demolished by a mob of humans and pokémon alike. What was playing out before his eyes was a nightmare in every sense of the word. Every able-bodied adult with a pokémon was doing their best to murder a young twenty-two year old man because an old woman said his name on the news. All of them except for Professor Samuel Oak who came bursting out of the crowd astride his tauros with a bloody Richard clinging to his back. He was about to start cheering when the scyther dropped from the tree_ _,_ _and with arms like a guillotine, the human-sized bug cleanly took the young man's head off without any resistance._

Shaking the memory away, the trainer rubbed at his eyes and yawned quietly as he reached out and scratched Striker's back. The sun would be rising soon and that would be his best chance at slipping past everyone looking for him unnoticed. Leaving Viridian City last night the way he did had only succeeded in drawing attention to him like venomoths to a flame.

 _I hope they have more trouble seeing us when we leave than we did in finding this place,_ Lakigr thought to himself. The two of them had been lucky to come across this empty rattata den before the sun had fully set, otherwise they might have walked right past it without ever seeing it. It had been even more of a blessing that a raticate had made this place its home for a while at some point, making the opening that much wider and easier for him to slide through. It had still been a tight squeeze as he slid down through the earth, around the bend, and then back up and into the small hollow hillside. Without proper ventilation they couldn't have a real fire so they settled for using Striker's tail flame to roast the dead pidgeys for food. The rattata corpses they left near the den entrance to help mask their scents in case someone came along with a growlithe.

Lakigr stretched as best as he could in the cramped confines of the dark den, the shadows flickering in the firelight of the charmander's tail. "C'mon, Striker," he whispered quietly as he gently scratched the pokémon's head again to wake him up. "We need to go before someone finds us." Gathering up what little bit of his gear he had unpacked to use would not take him long, but he did not want to take the chance of getting stuck here if he needed to hurry. He wanted to get in the habit of having himself and Striker ready to run at a moment's notice.

The Pallet Town trainer silently set about cleaning up to leave when suddenly from outside the hill he heard muffled voices. He could not tell what was being said and he was almost positive there was no way they could possibly know about his location, but he froze nonetheless until they started to move on. Crawling quietly over to the pile of belongings that included his backpack and poké ball bandoleer, bits of dirt dusted down into his face as whatever trainers outside walked all over the hill.

The resulting sneeze sent everything into a maelstrom of madness that ended up defining the trainer for the rest of his days.

Even though Striker did his best to fight it, the first thing Lakigr did was put him back into his poké ball. The fire lizard knew a fight was coming, but what the charmander did not know was that it was a fight he could not win. Plunging his hands into his backpack, the young Mr. Leaf pulled out the poké-siren and started cranking it as fast as he could. He then finally heard footsteps approaching the front of the den and could start to make out what was being said between the two voices.

"…at that. Good grimers! What is happening to your rattata, Finn?"

"Don't know, but if that little shithead don't get his act together I'm gonna beat the hell out of him so bad the pokémon center won't be able to fix him." True to his words this 'Finn' somehow produced a pained yelp from the rattata in question at the mouth of the den. Lakigr felt his hands falter on the poké-siren as something primal inside him stirred. "Little fuckers are a dime a dozen anyways. Might as well just grab another one on the way home this morning." A louder, sharper cry of pain came from the rattata as it unceremoniously dropped down the tunnel.

Lakigr dropped the siren and stared at the poor little rodent as a flashlight beamed down from the outside onto it. Its nose was broken, ribs were caved in, an ear was mangled, one paw was nearly a stump it was so swollen, and to make matters worse it was still trying to get up and go back to this 'Finn' for help. The flash of light inside the den and tunnel undoubtedly gave him away as well as screaming, "Striker, grab his tail!" but he no longer cared. The flame on Striker's tail seared his trainer's arms as he quickly pulled both pokémon up into the safety of the den and out of the light. Once the pokémon were out of the way the child did the only other thing he could think of while he waited for the inevitable…he got the knife.

"Alright you damn mankey! Dig through that hill till you find them!" he heard the man named Finn scream from outside. It was immediately followed by the sound of dirt being rapidly pummeled and moved by the clawing hands of the fighting type pokémon. Lakigr moved to the side of the wall where the intruder was bound to break through and raised the blade high, but Striker bounded in front of him and puffed up his chest. The little charmander took a deep breath, planted his feet firmly, and waited until the first bit of wall to give way to let loose with all it had upon the unsuspecting creature. The mankey shrieked in agony as the flames burned its eyes away to useless globs, falling over itself in its haste to flee back to the safety of its trainer.

"Jumping jynxes!" the other man shouted in pure terror. Whether this man had pokémon on him or not, he simply turned on his heels and ran away as fast as he could without looking back. Lakigr knew he had to capitalize on this while he could, and even though he felt adrift in a sea of dread he forced himself to run through the smoke and dirt towards 'Finn' with the blade in hand. His stomach was doing backflips and the youngster knew that once this was over he was going to end up losing whatever was currently sitting inside of it all over the ground.

'Finn' saw him coming and was doing his best to recall his injured mankey back to its poké ball, but with it being so frantic he quickly gave up and reached for another. Lakigr saw a different poké ball being pulled out of a coat pocket and he did the only thing he could think of that made sense. He slashed at the man's forearm and wrist and the moment he let go of the poké ball he reeled back and kicked as hard as he could before slamming into the older man. The poké ball soared off into the distance, and for a moment it was an almost majestic sight.

The hot tears streaming down the child's face for the third time in less than thirty-six hours were beginning to take a toll on him, and his journey had only just begun. They mingled with the sickly sweet sourness of the sweat of exhaustion he was exuding from the heat the flames had produced and struggling with this man. The slick blood pouring around the hilt of the knife buried in the gut of the adult standing in front of him left him surprised, scared, appalled, enraged, and after peering back into the den and seeing the beaten and broken rattata once more, feeling supremely justified when he managed to push the man backwards off his feet.

The boy from Pallet Town could feel his pulse racing as the dying man below him opened his mouth wide to scream, but was instead silenced as a poké ball was removed from his lab coat pocket and rammed harshly into his mouth. The flailing arms of 'Finn' sent Lakigr reeling for a moment, and left him seeing stars. A blur of movement and clash of sound surrounded him and he knew that Striker had engaged the man in battle to defend him. Unfortunately a flash of purple also signified that the wrongly, roughed up rattata seemed to have joined the fray as well. The child had been hoping to avoid harming the rattata at all, but it looked as if his hand was going to be forced. When he picked himself back up though, he turned around and was faced with the morbid sight of not Striker, but the rattata savagely rending the flesh of its former trainer.

For a moment Lakigr thought maybe he had made the wrong decision in rescuing this rattata, it certainly seemed feral and dangerous enough to be put down, but then it dropped over onto its side and began crying. Striker leaned down and began comforting it first, speaking in the sounds only they could understand. _Do not fear, Little Brother. My name is Striker. This is my human. He may look like many others, but I promise that he will not hurt you like this one did._ The rattata flinched slightly at the gentle touch of the charmander, its eyes darting between the trainer and partner pokémon.

The black haired youth hesitated before extending his hand and trying to comfort the injured rattata. He wanted to watch the scene before him unfold and see how Striker handled himself with his newfound friend first. Eventually he did reach out slowly and began gently stroking the top of the rattata's head in the most comforting way that he could. "It's ok," he whispered softly to the poor creature, "you won't be hurt like that ever again. I promise you. Now, both of you stay here for a moment."

He left the two pokémon where they were and crossed back over to the body. Now that he could finally get a good look at this 'Finn' in the early sunrise he was even more unsettled by what he saw. Here lay the dead body of a pokémon lab researcher! How someone who had supposedly dedicated their life to the study of pokémon could be capable of treating them like this was beyond the young trainer's comprehension. Regardless of what the man had done in life it had been what he had done up to the point of his death that had led to these circumstances. It was with that thought in mind that Lakigr used to keep himself steeled in manhandling the corpse as he began to rummage around the pockets looking for whatever he could find.

If the man was a researcher then that meant he had registration, information, cash, possibly spare poké balls or even an extra pokédex, but most importantly was this rattata's poké ball. If he could find the poké ball, this man's registration, get both of their hand scans done, and then use his pokédex to process the information, he might be able to work a 'sale' to legally transfer the possession of this rattata to his name. He finally found the registration in the man's wallet. Finnegan Winchester from Viridian City. Even in his registration photo the guy looked like a real creep, but it was the papers bundled behind the photo he was interested in.

If a trainer was not part of the Pokédex Program then they were required to carry a trainer registration photo identification card with them at all times along with registration papers for all of their pokémon they had on hand with them. That included the serial numbers that were stamped into the poké balls they were assigned to. He was so damn glad that he had paid special attention to Professor Oak's instructions on how to utilize the pokédex in terms of every day transactions; otherwise this would be almost impossible to accomplish.

His jet black eyes twinkled in the early morning sunlight that was rising over the horizon as he found the papers pertaining to the pint-sized purple pokémon. "Alright little guy," he said as he whipped out his pokédex and began frantically searching for the remaining poké ball, "time for you to be our friend." He glanced back down at the registration papers to see what his name was and was shocked to see the given field filled in as **5-4-1-7-0-4**. _This guy was cared for so little they didn't even bother to give him a name? Just a number? That's disgusting!_

Lakigr was furious as he finished patting down the body, only finding the one poké ball rammed into the corpse's mouth, but he did also manage to find a large vial shoved inside a coat pocket. Curious as to what could have been so important to keep on hand, the living trainer nearly dropped it in amazement when he managed to make out the label. Shoving it into his pocket he sat there for a few seconds looking at the mouth before slicing through the cheeks to expose more of his target. The moment he did though his stomach finally betrayed him, and he began puking pidgey portions all over the ground. Self-defense and rage were completely different from purposely defiling a body, even if it was for a 'good' purpose.

It took the boy a moment to work up the courage to put his hand in there to grab the ball, but even then it was still wedged tightly. He finally felt his stomach shift even more when he placed his heel against the jawbone. Gritting his own teeth, Lakigr held his breath as he leapt up and fixated all of his weight onto one single point. A loud, sickening, crack resounded in his ears as he slid down, scraping his flesh against the jagged jawbone. He had already thrown up the moment he felt flesh and broken teeth rub up against his bare ankle. He had succeeded in freeing the poké ball, but it took several moments before he had been able to get moving again.

 _Your human is interesting, Striker,_ the rattata weakly squeaked out from where they watched. _He is young by human standards, inexperienced, still seems inadequately able to care for himself, and yet has proven to have that killing spirit necessary to survive. And yet,_ he continued as he slowly turned to look directly at the charmander he was speaking to, _if you are to be believed he is less worried about his safety and more concerned with mine. Again, you two should leave me to die. It would be a mercy._

 _Stop saying that!_ Striker hissed. _After what my human had to risk for you there is no way he is going to just let you die! He is going to take you back to the human town and have you healed. Maybe set you free or find you a good home! I don't know much, but I do know that he says we have very few friends that can come with us. I don't know why-_

 _You were caught in the wild weren't you?_ the rattata asked him with a small smile causing his whiskers to twitch. _No wonder you still seem so innocent of humans and the world. Well,_ the purple pal said as he turned his head away from Striker, _I was born and raised in a lab. Spent my entire life around humans. They NEVER do anything that doesn't benefit themselves. Never in a-_

The cracking of the vial, the sloshing of liquid, the icy cold rush of healing as everything wrong with the body righted itself in an instant, all of these things and more interrupted the tirade the rattata had been in the middle of spewing at Striker who was staring in awe at his trainer. "Can't believe that dirty son of a bitch had a _Full Restore_ in his pocket this whole time and still let you get in this condition. Now," Lakigr said as he held up the poké ball in front of the fully healed rattata, "you've got two options little fella. First is that I can let you go, and I can keep this poké ball to use. The second one is that you can come with us. Your choice," he said as he crouched there in the dirt.

The rattata slowly got up, afraid to move too quickly for fear of breaking the illusion of no pain. He quickly realized that it was no illusion. For the first time in memory, the rattata formerly known as 5-4-1-7-0-4 felt no pain at all. He could put weight on all four paws without wincing. He could balance without grinding bones. He could breathe without agony coursing throughout his sides. He could smell again. His eyes darted from the human to the charmander and back again several times before he asked, _Is this really happening, Brother? Is he healing me, asking absolutely NOTHING in return, and allowing me the chance to walk away?_

Striker merely nodded as he rubbed up against Lakigr's leg and grinned. _Like I said, Brother, this is my human. He may look like many others, but I promise that he will not hurt you like that one did. He is- Wait! Come back!_ the charmander hissed as both he and his trainer called after the running rodent.

Sighing to himself as he scanned the poké ball with his pokédex, Lakigr set about erasing the registration data from the online registry. It did not take him long, but it still left him upset that the rattata had chosen to leave rather than stay. Then again after the way it had been treated he could not entirely blame it for being leery of humans in general. He reached down and scratched Striker behind the ears while telling him, "It's ok, buddy. I'm sure he'll be fine on his own. Besides," he said as he turned back around, "we've got more pressing concerns. We still got a body to deal with."

At least he had up until that point. A huge swarm of rattata seemed to appear from nowhere and converge upon the corpse before dragging it away in the middle of a sea of fur and flesh. It was said that rattata would eat anything in order to survive, and right now Lakigr was inclined to believe it. Counting himself lucky, the youth merely shrugged and started to turn back and head into town when a single shadow caught his eye.

It burst from the grass and made straight for Striker, that fighting spirit blazing as the smaller rattata's purple tail whipped back and forth. The charmander immediately threw back its head and spit out an ember of fire purely by reflex. Smoke and the smell of burnt hair suddenly wafted through the clearing as painful yelps could be heard from both creatures when the one crashed into the other at full momentum. Striker bounded back to his feet instantaneously while the trainer threw the poké ball, praying fervently that the results would be vastly different from the last time he had attempted this. The more it shook the less he breathed, and all the while he could only think, _Come on! Be Our Friend!_

The tension of the moment strained his neck like a vine whip being used as a hangman's noose when the final click sounded. He still stood there gazing at it as the morning wind blew his black hair gently underneath his hat. Finally, Striker stepped forward and nudged the poké ball with one of his clawed toes. It shook in response, and the fire lizard smiled up at his trainer before picking it up and bringing it to him. "Alright!" Lakigr shouted. "We finally got somebody new to help us out. Want to meet him, buddy?" He did not even wait for the pokémon to nod before opening the device.

Lakigr had been prepared for just about any kind of reaction from the rattata at that point after the morning he had already had. He was ready for outright violence, fear, uncertainty, or any of the other 'standard' scenarios that happens when a pokémon is first captured. What he had **not** been prepared for was when the rattata appeared, turned around, squatted down, proceeded to empty its bowels, and then began launching the anal ammunition at the both of them as if the previous fight had never ended. The trainer and pokémon alike dodged the scatological shrapnel as they went face first into the dirt. The boy groaned slightly as he started to get up, but froze when he saw the large front teeth looming in front of him.

 _Show no fear and control the situation,_ he told himself while hoping Striker was ready to intervene if necessary. Forcing a smile onto his face and into his voice, Lakigr did the best he could as he locked eyes with the rattata right in front of him. "Well if you just aren't the little shithead. Since I can't run around calling you that though," he continued as he got onto his knees slowly, "I'm going to give you the name you've obviously earned. Scatattack."

The creature tilted its head sideways for a moment, the upper lip twitching in what almost appeared to be a smile as the human slowly straightened up. _Your human has bravado,_ the rattata commented to Striker as it peered back over its shoulder at the charmander circling behind it. _I think I can live with a human like that._ Taking a step forward, Scatattack put his head into Lakigr's hand until fingers found their way behind the rodent's large ears.

After a moment the trainer stopped playing long enough to remove one of his _Potions_ from his pockets and poured the contents onto his newest acquaintance. The injuries, while not major but still troublesome, reversed themselves before their eyes and before long everyone was in perfect shape. Standing up and looking over his two pokémon, it was obvious that Striker could use some rest after everything the little guy had been through. "Come on buddy," he said as he held up the charmander's poké ball, "you get some rest while we hit the road." A flash of light was all the answer that was given before Lakigr stuffed it back into the bandoleer.

Making their way out to the road, Scatattack and Lakigr began their walk towards Viridian City in relative peace. Before long though they heard the death throes of a mankey not far behind them being drowned out by the piercing cry of a pidgey and the ecstatic shout of its trainer. He looked around and unfortunately there was nowhere for him to take cover, this portion of the road was a straight shot. What made it worse was the fact that he recognized that voice and that meant it had to be-

"Well look at what the meowth dragged in!" exclaimed Katama as he popped up over the horizon. "I thought I smelled complete and utter poverty down here. Lance dropped me off after staying the night at the Indigo Plateau with the entire Elite Four." The other trainer finally caught up to him and leaned forward to mockingly sniff at him, which turned out to be a horribly bad decision when he started coughing and sneezing uncontrollably. "Sweet jynxes!" he exclaimed. "Did you sleep with your rattata? I knew you were dirt poor but I didn't know you were just plain dirty!" The rich kid turned away in disgust, putting some distance between them as Lakigr's knuckles began turning white from clenching his fists. "We just put that blind mankey out of its misery! Now let's do the same with this dirty rattata! Go, Lockheed!"

The moment Katama's poké ball was released Lakigr was already backing up and shouting, "Scatattack, get in there and keep it off balance!" He had been hoping to get to know his newest pokémon a little bit better before their first real trainer battle, but that was obviously a luxury they could no longer afford. The moment the pidgey appeared the little rattata was dashing across the intervening space and snapping his tail right on the tip of the bird's beak. Lockheed, as Katama had called him, responded with slapping the tail down with his wing and following through with a full-body tackle.

The little rat went reeling backwards, but he bounded right back up onto his feet. Lakigr kept screaming directions and was amazed at how well Scatattack was already responding to them as he nimbly sprinted from side to side. The key right now was to quickly confuse the enemy before striking dead center with lightning fast efficiency. The brown bird kicked up a cloud of dirt that Scatattack passed through as he slammed into Lockheed at breakneck speed. The fowl howl was still echoing in everyone's ears when the miniscule mouse pivoted and pushed off with such force, that the next blow knocked the avian avatar unconscious.

While Katama retreated his injured pokémon, Lakigr continued to praise his rattata as highly as he could. "Good job, Scatattack! Keep it up and we've got this in the bag!" His opponent caught their attention screaming, "This time for sure, Tank!" A quick flash of light appeared and then faded away to reveal the squirtle that was originally meant for the Leaf household. "Same as before!" retorted Lakigr. "Keep him off balance and distract him before you hit him!"

Once again Scatattack ran in head first towards his opponent, but when Katama gave the order to counterattack, the rattata slid underneath the outstretched arm. Dirt flew everywhere as the tiny animal spun around tail whipping furiously about, slapping the squirtle's sides and shell for the sole purpose of creating the sensation of a thousand flies buzzing over the body. Roaring in rage as he lashed out, Tank finally managed to land a claw on Scatattack and tackle him to the ground.

Scatattack yelped in pain before sliding out from beneath the towering tortoise and striking it right across the face with its tail once more. The squirtle growled slightly as it stumbled back a few steps before rushing forward and slamming so harshly into the rodent that it slid almost ten feet through the dirt before coming to a stop. The amount of battling was obviously taking a toll on the poor purple pokémon as it got up and limped towards its target.

Lunging forward toward his target, Scatattack hit nothing but empty air as Tank stepped aside and brought both arms down upon the rattata's exposed back. The creature shrieked in pain as Lakigr began fumbling for the correct poké ball, finally grabbing it and turning it correctly so that he could bring his newest pet back as soon as he got a clear shot. Which was now a problem seeing as how both opposing trainer and pokémon were between him and Scatattack. He started to panic, wondering if maybe he was going to have to watch one of his pokémon possibly die when he remembered his mother's advice.

Taking a step back and to the right, Lakigr quickly ducked down and hooked his rival's ankle in the small of his arm before pulling as hard as he could. The moment Katama started falling, though, he was off running to try and circle around for a clear shot of his own pokémon. When he had gotten around the two had already traded blows again, and it looked as if Scatattack was barely moving. The black haired trainer finally managed to get what he had been seeking and recalled the rattata to safety before it was hurt even more. "Alright, Striker!" he cried. "Let's finish this!"

The flash of light was supposed to signal the start of a something great, but instead it just gave Tank a shiny target as it rammed right into Striker the moment he materialized. The little fire lizard wasted no time though as it slithered around the shell and jabbed a sharp claw underneath the arm into the soft tissue for maximum pain. The squirtle flailed about wildly, hitting the charmander wherever he could but doing only minimal damage as he tried to dislodge him by popping in and out of his shell. Both pokémon and trainer smiled almost wickedly as Lakigr screamed, "Fucking end him! End his career!"

It did all finally end when Striker lived up to his name. The charmander scrambled over the squirtle's shell and finally pushed him down into the dirt. As the water pokémon scrambled to regain its feet, though, the fight was over. Striker was already coiled, and the moment the neck became exposed, he shot forward like a bullet from a gun. The hit was so hard and cruel that blood splattered all over the young Oak's shirt. "That's enough, Striker," Lakigr said. "Unlike everyone else in this farfetch'd-forsaken region, we're not killers hell-bent on bloodlust."

 _So says you,_ laughed a little voice in the back of his head as pictures of the body he had dealt with earlier flashed before his mind's eye. _**Hey that asshole deserved death!**_ _Oh, sure. Pretty sure lots of people said the same things about Johto over ten years ago, too._ _ **…**_

Lakigr shook his head as he stared blankly at Katama for a moment. "Wait, what did you say, Nutsack?"

"I said you just lucked out, Lakigr. Sheesh, you can't even afford to pay attention now," he mumbled as he turned to leave. "And don't call me that!"

He stood there watching Katama leave for a moment before leaning down to scratch Striker's head. "You and Scatattack were amazing. Now, let's get you both healed up so we can get through Viridian Forest and onto Pewter City." He felt his heart skip a few beats at the thought of that. "We have to be there in six days, and that means we don't have a lot of time." _No. That means that we have to travel, hopefully catch a few more friends, pray we don't get lost, arrive in time, and finally challenge the gym without the benefit of weeks of training like normal trainers. Oh, and hope we don't get charged with First Degree Murder at some point in all of this._

He knew he needed to get a move on before somebody else came across them, and he would soon enough, but for just a few moments he still wanted to take a moment to sit down and remember a couple of facts. Fact one: his name was Lakigr Leaf. Fact two: he was ten years old. Fact three: he was only into his second day of being an official pokémon trainer. Fact four: he had been turned into a second class citizen known as a Whipping Boy. Fact five: he killed another human being less than an hour ago.

Striker gave his trainer a hug which snapped him out of his little stupor. Smiling at the charmander and scratching his head, Lakigr stood up and started thinking as they began making their way back down the road to Viridian City. He had started to make his team, and now they were going to head down to the forest. He had left his home and was looking at a new horizon, but one day he would return back to Pallet Town. Hopefully he would meet some new friends along the way, cause right now he had zero badges and no way to pay.

Viridian City proper came into view pretty soon, as did the pokémon center, and all other thoughts vanished from his head as he passed through the doors. Thankfully the entire city still seemed to be mostly asleep as almost nobody was out at that early hour. He went to the nearest Nurse Joy, gave the same order as the night before and followed her to the back. Once she handed him back the poké balls Lakigr started to walk back towards the front, but was stopped when the Joy put a hand on Lakigr's shoulder. "Per my standing orders I am to inform you that you are now authorized to use the non-public portions of all pokémon center care facilities."

"But…wait…what? How? Who?" He could not completely form real questions, but apparently it was enough as he was handed a small envelope. He opened it up and pulled out a small "Get Well Soon" card that read, _Don't think I'm doing this to be nice. I just don't want to smell you later. Katama Oak._

Lakigr laughed as he let Joy lead him to a locked bathroom where he finally relaxed for the first time since he left his home.


	5. Book 1-Lament (Leaving Viridian City)

**BOOK 1: LAMENT**

 **CHAPTER 4: LEAVING VIRIDIAN CITY**

Throwing the damp towels down the laundry chute as he turned to leave, Lakigr Leaf already knew that he was addicted to the non-public portions of the pokémon centers. Each private bathhouse was larger than his bedroom and his home's only bathroom combined. Not only were they enormous, but the choice between a high pressure shower with an endless supply of hot water and a deep seated hot tub with enough room to almost fit a gyarados had been nearly impossible. He had wasted almost an hour washing and relaxing while the city was waking up, and now he was going to pay the price as he had to walk through the throng. His only response as he left the room was to roll his eyes and sarcastically mutter, "Thanks, Katama."

The young trainer from Pallet Town had barely taken two steps out from the back when a hand came down onto his shoulder. Turning to look brought him to chest height on a woman in a severe uniform that made his heart fly right into his throat: an Officer Jenny. "Do you have authorization to be back here, young man?" she asked sternly as she reached into his pocket. She obviously expected to pull out a bundle of papers and not an actual pokédex by the look of pure shock on her face, but that did not stop her from continuing with the interrogation. The Jenny opened the device, gave the appropriate authorization code, and began verifying the authenticity of the situation.

 _Oh_ _ **please**_ _don't let all of this be an elaborate ruse by that dirty little nutsack Katama to get me arrested for breaking and entering!_ he thought to himself. _Not when everything_ _ **finally**_ _seemed to be going good!_ The boy knew he looked like a nervous wreck and there was nothing he could do about it. Shifting from one foot to another was all he could do to keep from running away screaming in pure terror. Lakigr readjusted his hat as he silently prayed that this had nothing to do with the corpse he had left to the rattatas out west along Route 22 earlier that morning.

"Well," the police officer said curtly as she snapped the pokédex shut, "you most certainly weren't what I was expecting to find when the lab sent me to track you down." She stuffed the device back into his pocket and gave him a small shove towards the door. He stumbled before catching himself against the wall, managing to see his reflection in the panes of glass of a nearby window. The blood had completely drained from Lakigr's face as he wondered how he was going to get out of this alive. "Let's get going. I don't have all day, and they're waiting for you at the research labs."

"The research labs?" he asked hesitantly. If she were taking him there instead of directly to the police station then she could not possibly know about what had transpired that morning. On the other hand though, the guy that ran away could be behind this and planning something sinister in his own right. Regardless, Lakigr was left with no choice and was given no answer. Instead, he was forced along by the officer until he found himself shoved into the sidecar of her motorbike.

He kept his hat and backpack of supplies in his lap as they sped through the city, and his black hair whipped wildly in the wind as they wove through the streets, vehicles, and pedestrians with ease. It was an awkwardly silent ride, with Jenny keeping her attention on the road and the young boy keeping one eye on her and one eye looking for anyone who might try to claim him as their prize. Curiously enough it seemed that hardly anybody even bothered to look their way, almost as if the officer acting like a taxi service was normal.

It was not long until they pulled up to the doors of the Viridian Labs on the north end of the city. Similar in design to its counterpart in Pallet Town except for being larger, the looming structure was at once foreboding and yet oddly comforting in its familiarity. Slipping his hat back onto his head as he climbed out of the sidecar, Lakigr thanked the Jenny for her assistance. She nodded with little emotion, gave a casual wave of her hand, and then took off without saying a word.

The young Leaf looked around for a moment while trying to decide whether he should go ahead and enter the building or leave before he was spotted. This had to be the laboratory where Finnegan Winchester had worked at before he was killed this morning. If he went inside there was a good chance that whoever had been with him this morning would be here and would recognize him. If he did _**not**_ go inside though that meant he had to go to Pewter City without any more poké balls. Oh he could, theoretically, get down Route 2 and through Viridian Forest with just Striker and Scatattack no problem. But surviving the Pewter City gym with just the two of them…

"Ah, you're the trainer we've been waiting for," came a young woman's voice from up the steps, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Please," she said as the butterfree hovering next to her held open the door for him, "come inside. Our Assistant Researcher is very anxious to meet with you."

 _Well,_ he thought to himself as he started climbing the stairs, _guess that decision has been made for me then._ He really hoped that this was not going to turn out badly, because the only option he had was to use the poké-siren and he really needed to keep that a secret as long as he possibly could. He was not sure why, but something told him that if that was found he was sure to be in a world of trouble. He was sure there were answers in the shoe box of notes between his father, this mysterious Tantor, and his mother, Mehnsh Leaf, but the rattata den had been too dark and cramped and even the private portions of the pokémon center had been unsafe. He still felt uneasy after noticing the 'security cameras' that were set up to be discreetly monitored for 'accidental drownings'.

Walking through the doors at the top of the steps was like entering a different world. The exterior was similar to that of the Oak laboratory in Pallet Town but the interiors had nothing in common with each other. Where his hometown lab was open, spacious, and carefree this place was cramped, dark, and oppressive. Instead of a storage room off to the side lined with poké balls and computer banks the walls here were lined with cages filled with pokémon. Where there should have been bookcases and electronic equipment there was instead operating tables and the instruments necessary for dissection. "This is…this is…"

"Barbaric."

He spun around at being interrupted with his own thoughts before coming face to face with the man who had to be the Assistant Researcher. "Oh no," he said as he began backtracking the conversation. "I didn't mean anything like that at all! I'm sure your research here is very vital and groundbreaking in its own way!" _Even though_ , he thought to himself, _you literally took the word from my mouth._ "Now, if you could just spare me an intern and requisition me the appropriate amount of poké balls, I will gladly-"

"No," the other man said, cutting off Lakigr with a wave of his hand. "I could do with a stretch after this morning, and I'm sure you could as well." Reaching out and plucking the young trainer's pokédex and newest poké ball from their respective places, the Assistant Researcher began inspecting the device and the poké ball's hinge carefully. The slightly older man handed both back to the Pallet Town trainer without saying anything, and so left the younger man bewildered and intrigued by what had transpired. Looking down at the poké ball froze him in place as firmly as an ice beam from a dewgong. When he turned it just right the hinge lined up with some etchings to form the name "FINN".

It was not until the sunlight shined directly into his eyes that Lakigr realized he had been physically directed back outside. He felt confused, lost, scared, and vulnerable all at once. _I was so careful_ , he thought to himself, _that I thought there was nothing left to worry about._ It was not even noon and already his world had been sent reeling more times in this day than it had in the rest of his life.

"Jumping jynxes," the Assistant Researcher mumbled as he reached back to pull him along. "Don't just stand there like a slowpoke waiting for its tail to grow back! Get a move on!"

The boy staggered a few steps before finding his footing and making his way down the street behind the lab. Following the scientist in front of him was not hard as the way ahead was clear. The street quickly merged with the main road, and soon the two of them found themselves walking alongside the main traffic way. Being located on the north end of Viridian City meant the only thing between the research center and the forest was a few isolated miles of Route 2, and right now Lakigr was wondering if he would be able to run that entire distance. He had the feeling that once he made it to the forest he was going to spend a majority of the next five days hiding from humans as much as from the deadly beedrill.

Once they were down the road far enough to not be heard by anyone else the Assistant Researcher finally said, "I guess I really should be thanking you for killing Finn." He paused and looked sideways at the younger trainer as they continued to walk, noting the obvious tension about the boy. "Oh you can be quiet all you want, but give it a few days and when he doesn't show up I'll still be promoted. Regardless of what you do or don't admit to. My best piece of advice," he said as he handed over a poké ball and pointed to a nearby pidgey feasting on a caterpie, "get as far away before his cousin gets back in town."

The youngest of the pair was confused for a second, but then he remembered that the older one had looked at his pokédex back at the laboratory. He had seen what had been registered therein and knew that a pidgey would make a good addition to his team at this point. Without further hesitation, he grabbed one of his filled poké balls with his free hand and let Scatattack loose in a flash of light.

The rambunctious rodent waited only a moment for its trainer to scream, "Take it down!" before running ahead at full throttle. The resulting collision sent the baffled bird backwards several feet before it regained its footing. It did not, however, seem to regain its senses as it stumbled backwards towards the rattata before trying to tackle it in retaliation. The masculine mouse simply sidestepped the abject attack and let it fall face first into the dirt. Before it could begin to get up Lakigr threw the empty poké ball to apprehend the avian adversary. Three little shakes and a single quick click were all that answered him as Scatattack returned to his little sanctuary.

The black haired youth looked over at the Assistant Researcher as he pulled out his pokédex and began scanning the serial number on his newest poké ball. "Thank you," he whispered quietly as he looked around nervously, "but why are you helping me? And who is this cousin?" He had a lot of questions but right now those were the two that interested him the most.

"I'll answer your questions as soon as you answer mine," the older man said with a solemn glare. "What are you going to call that pidgey you just caught?"

The young trainer from Pallet Town just blinked for a moment before sheepishly handing over his pokédex to the man. "I liked the way he walked backwards," he mumbled quietly. "It was funny."

Laughter erupted from the other man as he handed the pokédex back as well as a _Potion_ vial. "Leave it to a kid," the older man said as he wiped a tear away, "to name a pidgey birdy spelled backwards. Ydrib is a good name kid. It suits you, and that pokémon. But to answer your earlier questions," he said as he straightened up and looked Lakigr in the eye. "First, you did every person and pokémon in that research center a favor this morning."

The boy started to open his mouth but was instantly silenced when a hand was pressed over his mouth. "Don't bother, boy. I saw you and that charmander this morning. Just before I took off, the dust settled enough for me to catch a glimpse of your face. When Finn didn't make it back within the hour I knew. I knew," the scientist said with a smile, "and I couldn't have been happier. Oh I see the surprise in your eyes, but I know you saw 5-4-1-7-0-4. That was not uncommon among the specimens used in the field and in research."

"Not uncommon?" Lakigr said angrily as he pushed the hand away from his face. "And you call yourself a man of science or any kind of pokémon trainer at all after letting shit like that happen on a regular basis there? What kind of spineless coward are you!"

"Yeah! Go ahead and judge me, kid!" he said as he threw another poké ball at the younger trainer. "What do you know about life? You've only been out of your house for what? Two days now? I've been imprisoned in that hell-hole of a laboratory trying to 'make a better poké ball' by ripping pokémon apart for almost a decade! Because that's what Finn was obsessed with!" he growled menacingly as the other tried to back up a few steps.

"I live in the real world! The one where people like that monster Finn get to run Pokémon Research Centers because their cousin is the Viridian City gym leader! It's called nepotism, and you know what happens if you try and point that crap out to somebody?" he asked as he pulled up his shirt. Black eyes widened in horror as they took in massive scar tissue up and down the torso completely disfiguring the older man's body. "They hold you down, main-line an IV of _Antidote_ into your arm, and have a freshly evolved beedrill stab you for hours on end!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"Of course you didn't know!" the older man continued as he lowered his shirt. "They may have made you into a whipping boy, but you ain't some righteous saint on a crusade! You ain't the only one with problems, and you sure as hell ain't the only one that has suffered some injustice at the hands of these people and their abuses of power!" His eyes flashed as he leaned forward and stared intently at the child. "I'm twenty-three years old, horribly mauled underneath these clothes, and I'll never be able to have kids of my own now because of that son of a bitch!"

He never knew if it was the fear or sadness that had to have obviously been written all over his face that changed the other man's mood, but something must have done it. The scientist sighed heavily and turned back towards Viridian City, obviously uncomfortable with looking at the boy any longer. "Look, kid," he finally said after an awkward pause, "the best thing that can be said is to get into the forest, use your time there wisely, and pray that nobody finds you when you're sleeping." Looking back over his shoulder at the young Pallet Town trainer, the Assistant Researcher smiled slightly. "I'll do my best to keep them off your trail for a few days. It's the least I can do for the promotion you've given me. After that, you're on your own. Good luck."

Lakigr watched as the older man began walking back towards Viridian City, and for a moment he wondered if he could truly trust him. Then the boy realized that this man had taken a real risk coming this far outside the city with someone he knew to be a killer. Turning his back on the man and the city, the youth slipped the unused poké ball into his pocket before starting towards the forest.

Before going too far he let out Striker and Scatattack to help scout the area for any dangers he could not see. Once he was sure that it was safe enough, he stopped long enough to let his newest addition out of his poké ball. When Ydrib materialized and immediately began cradling his left wing, the trainer cracked open the _Potion_ vial that had been provided just moments earlier. "Not to worry there little guy," he said with a smile. "You are going to be fine, and I'm sure they are going to make you feel right at home," he told the bird as he gestured to the rattata and charmander. "Now come on," the boy told them as he repositioned his backpack of supplies, "let's get into the forest before somebody comes along the road and finds us here."

The poor pidgey looked around for a moment, blinking in confusion as the rattata and charmander both came up to it snickering softly. _Am I so amusing that you must laugh at me in my face?_ the bird asked of them.

 _No, brother,_ Striker replied. _You simply remind us of ourselves when we joined this crazy little family._ Putting an arm around his newest comrade the little fire lizard smiled warmly. _Come, let us go into the forest and see what feast awaits us besides that dried out bug corpse you were picking at._

 _So you have been with him a long time?_ Ydrib asked them both.

 _Long enough,_ said Scatattack who nudged the other two forward. _Come on, our human awaits and so does this accursed forest apparently. Let's get this over with so that we can get through the trees and back out into open fields and skies where we belong._

Lakigr smiled as the three pokémon took off past him down the road together. Whatever transpired between them had obviously brought them together at least somewhat closer as a group, and for that he was thankful. He had only been given one more poké ball to use between here and Pewter City, so it was essential that they all be able to work together. Picking up his own pace to catch up to them, the black eyed boy born to a Kanto woman and a Johto man began laughing one of his final laughs for a very long time.


End file.
